“I thought it was the only way,” Gabe said in a low voice.It wasn’t what he’d meant to say. It wasn’t his typical defensive thought. Maybe he’d gotten those out of his system.
“The only way to what?” his father asked.
“To grow.”
A long moment passed before Esteban spoke again, switching into Spanish. “I was hard on you,” he admitted. “I thought I knew better, and I didn’t—I didn’t know how else to prepare you for life. It was how your grandfather raised me.”
Esteban rarely spoke about his own father. He’d died well before Gabe had been born, when Esteban had been a teenager in Mexico.
Gabe looked at his father’s body, at the minor scars, the signs of age. Life had been hard on this man. As a father, as the head of the household, as a small business owner, as an immigrant. Gabe had only one of those responsibilities, and he felt like he was drowning most of the time. Was that how his dad had felt? He must have, with two little kids at home, a wife, a store, employees, and customers. It would have been impossible to meet their needs and expectations 100 percent.
“I’ve talked to your mother,” Esteban went on. “We should’ve considered what you wanted, should’ve let you make more of your own choices, follow your own dreams. We realize now, there were other ways. But back then? We didn’t know. Lo siento, mijo.”
This was it. The thing Gabe had wanted for as long as he could remember. Acknowledgment and apology from his father.
But it didn’t heal him as much as he’d thought it would. There was no sense of instant satisfaction, no validation balmapplied to his soul. He’d wanted to show his father he was wrong. Well, mission accomplished.
And so what?
Gabe had still lost nearly a decade with his father due to their anger and inability, or unwillingness, to see eye to eye. Granted, maybe Gabe had needed the distance in order to take ownership of his choices and grow up. The time apart meant he couldn’t blame his doubts or his failures on anyone but himself.
Yes, there’d been tension during his childhood. Raised voices and too much responsibility. But Gabe had been in his early twenties, technically an adult, when he’d decided estrangement was the only option.
And maybe he’d been wrong.
“Why were you angry all the time when I visited?” he asked in a low voice.
Esteban sighed. “I was sad and worried, and I didn’t know how to show it. Nikki says it’s something calledtoxic masculinity.”
Gabe decided not to comment on that part. “You were worried about me?”
“Of course. You were three thousand miles away, all alone, and you barely knew how to do your own laundry.”
Okay, that much was true. But Gabe had known how to work hard. Thanks to his dad.
All this time, he’d thought his father didn’t care, that his family probably hadn’t even thought about him while he was gone. But that was stupid. He’d still thought about them all the time, even when he wasn’t in communication. Their presence in his life, in his memories, had never gone away. Of course it must have been the same for them.
Gabe tried to imagine having a kid. Sure, he’d want his child to work hard and know the value of his own skills, but he’d also want them to have it easier than he did. It would be a hard balance to strike, he could see that now. To pass on your core values—in the case of his father, those values were hard work and the importance of family—while still preparing them for life in the real world.
His parents had challenged what Gabe said he wanted to do, and he’d taken it to mean they didn’t think he was capable. But why would they have trusted him with as much as they had if they hadn’t believed in him? They’dwantedhim to stay. For the store, yes, but if the store was a symbol of familial connection, it wasn’t just to keep him on hand for cheap labor. And if he’d really had as much confidence in his choices as he claimed to have, it wouldn’t have mattered whether they’d doubted him or not.
What if he was the one who doubted himself all along?
He thought of the finalCelestial Destinychat transcript he’d saved. Even though Michelle hadn’t known what Gabe was planning back then, she’d all but told him his way of thinking was flawed. At the time, Gabe hadn’t been able to see it.
“I understand it more now,” Gabe said slowly. “I’m... I’m sorry I stayed away so long. I won’t do that again.”
“Good,” Esteban said, as if it were that easy.
Maybe it was.
Gabe picked up the towel and wiped the lotion off his dad’s shoulder. “All done,” he said. “You can sit up when you’re ready. And we’ll put ice on you after dinner.”
Esteban swung his legs over the side of the table and sat up. He moved his arm experimentally. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Better?” Gabe asked.
“Sí. Se siente mejor.” There was surprise in his father’s tone too.
